


I've Trusted Lies And Trusted Men

by OwenToDawn



Series: 15 Day Lyric Challenge 2020 [7]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Catharsis, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Past Abuse, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26065183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: Bernadetta returns home to remove her father from power
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Bernadetta von Varley
Series: 15 Day Lyric Challenge 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882966
Kudos: 20





	I've Trusted Lies And Trusted Men

**Author's Note:**

> Day 8 is here! Halfway done. Today's fic is based on the lyric: 
> 
> "I waited awhile for/a moment to say I don't owe you a god damn thing" from Nightmare by Halsey
> 
> I just really wanted to write a fic where Bernadetta feels strong enough to tell her father to fuck off so here it is! 
> 
> Title from the same song
> 
> Comments are loved

“Are you sure? We can always just leave it to the Professor to sort out,” Dorothea says.

Bernadetta stares at the entrance gate to House Varley’s estate, their Crest worked into the iron and split down the middle where it will open once the guard receives permission. As it stands, he’s currently staring at the two of them in frustration. They haven’t formerly announced themselves yet after all, instead just loitering outside the way children sometimes would before the guard finally chased them off.

“I have to,” Bernadetta says. “If I’m going to move on, I have to do this.”

“Oh Bernie,” Dorothea says, her hand running up and down Bernadetta’s back. “You don’t. If you never want to see his face again, you don’t have to, and you’ll still be able to find closure. This is about what _you_ want.”

It’s not a new conversation. She and Dorothea have talked this to death and while Bernadetta knows she’s making the right decision, she can’t help but feel afraid still. She leans into Dorothea’s steady weight and tells her so.

“I understand the fear,” Dorothea says. “But I’m here and I promise you that I won’t let him lay a hand on anyone ever again.”

Bernadetta closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smell of Dorothea’s perfume, familiar and soothing. When she opens her eyes again, she feels ready. She steps away from Dorothea’s warm embrace and approaches the guard as she opens her pouch and pulls out the royal decree entrusted to her with Byleth’s official seal. She hands it to the guard without a word. He seems less frustrated now, eyes widening as he breaks the seal and reads the contents.

“Is this…” he starts.

"Would you prefer I bring the whole royal army?” Bernadetta asks.

“N-No, that’s quite alright,” the guard says. “Right this way.”

He triggers the opening mechanism and the gate slides open, allowing Bernadetta and Dorothea to start up the well-manicured dirt pathway to the towering and imposing mansion. Dorothea doesn’t say a word, instead staying close and offering her support in silence. For that, Bernadetta’s grateful. She’s steeled her heart and her will for this moment, but she’s certain if she stops now, she won’t be able to force herself the rest of the way up the hill. She doesn’t knock on the door when they reach it, instead twisting the handle hard and throwing open the door with the strength honed from years riding into battle with a spear and bow.

She’s not the fragile child she once was, even if fear still finds a way to paralyze her.

“Lady Varley, you’re back!” The voice belongs to one of the maids who’d been dusting the bannister of the grand staircase. “I’ll-“

“I’m here to deliver a royal decree from King Byleth,” Bernadetta says. “Please summon Duke Varley.”

The maid stares, half-stunned.

“I believe Lady Varley made a request,” Dorothea says, voice gentle but firm.

“Yes, of course, right away,” the maid says, half running up the stairs.

Bernadetta inhales, heart leaping up to her throat. “Dorothea…”

“You have this, Bernie,” Dorothea says, stepping in front of her and resting her hands on Bernadetta’s shoulders. “I’m here if you need, but I believe in you.”

Bernadetta nods, feeling a little bit like a bobble head. “Thank you.”

Dorothea smiles, the soft genuine smile that always makes Bernadetta’s chest feel warm, and she follows it up with a somewhat indulgent kiss to Bernadetta’s lips. She sighs, melting into the strength Dorothea so selflessly offers.

“Bernadetta.”

Bernadetta jerks away at the sound of her father’s voice but stills at Dorothea’s reassuring touch at her hip. Dorothea doesn’t move away, instead forcing Bernadetta to meet her eyes.

“You have this,” Dorothea says.

She waits for Bernadetta to nod her agreement before she steps away and takes her place behind her once more, revealing Bernadetta’s father at the base of the stairs in the process. He hasn’t aged much that Bernadetta can tell. The harshness that’s always marred his face is still there, anger easy to read in every line of his body. He’s always worn it like a cloak, the rage making everyone scurry out of his way lest they draw his attention and with it, his violence.

But despite that, despite the memories that surge forward upon seeing his face, Bernadetta finds herself feeling…calm. What is this man to her, the woman who rode to war against her Emperor, against the very Elites themselves? What power could he possibly hold over her?

“I’m here by royal decree of King Byleth to seize the estate of House Varley and exile you to Sreng,” Bernadetta says, pulling out the official order from her bag and crossing the entry hall to hand it to him.

He rips it from her hand and breaks the seal with a rough motion. _Hysterical_ , she thinks. It’s so clear seeing him now that he’s just a small, terrified man who beat and controlled her to feel like he had power over something. He’s not strong. He’s not terrifying. He’s an empty shell of a man trying to stop anyone else from realizing the truth. His eyes dance across the page before he all but throws it on the ground.

Bernadetta sees the action before he commits it, years of abuse having left her sensitive to the subtle changes in one’s body posture. She grabs his wrist before his hand connects with her face, twisting it to the side hard enough she can feel the bones straining and creaking as they threaten to snap.

“Raising a hand against a royal officer is a crime that carries quite a punishment,” Bernadetta says as she meets his eyes. “Do you want to add that on top of everything else?”

“You ungrateful little _bitch._ ”

“Oh come now, Duke Varley, though I suppose you aren’t a Duke anymore, are you,” Dorothea says. “You sound like a commoner with such vulgar language.”

Bernadetta almost laughs at the impotent rage on her father’s face that builds from Dorothea’s cutting words. “I’m going to let you go, and you will not raise your hand against me ever again. You will pack one bag, and you will be escorted by the royal guards waiting at the edge of this property to your new home.”

“And what of your mother?” he asks. “Would you really condemn your sweet mother to this just because of me?”

“Of course not,” Bernadetta says. “This estate will be hers to do with what she wishes. Perhaps she’ll marry a commoner.”

She releases his hand, prepared to grab it again when he tries to hit her once more. To her surprise though, he seems to deflate as he steps away from her. It’s laughable really. The slightest bit of resistance and he cowers away, useless and ineffectual and all the other words he had thrust upon her. She’d accepted the labels he’d placed on her for so long, not realizing they were all the labels he was too cowardly to accept as his own.

“Hurry up,” she says. “You have ten minutes, so think quickly, yes?”

He turns away without a word and flees up the stairs. The moment he’s out of sight, Bernadetta feels her knees go weak, but before she can fall, Dorothea steps in front of her and catches her with a firm hug.

“Good job, baby,” she says, pressing the words to Bernadetta’s forehead with a kiss. “You didn’t give him even an inch.”

“He doesn’t deserve it,” she says. “I…I never realized how pathetic he was until I saw him now.”

“Picking on a child because of his own insecurities,” Dorothea says, disgust souring her tone. “Sending him to Sreng is too nice. Maybe Dagda would be better.”

Bernadetta shakes her head. “No. I just want him gone, somewhere that he can’t hurt me or my mother ever again. That’s all that matters.”

Dorothea cups Bernadetta’s face in both her hands. “You, Bernadetta, are so much better than he will ever be, and that is why I love you.”

It’s that of all things that make tears burn at the corner of Bernadetta’s eyes, but she doesn’t really mind. She’ll never cry for her father again, but she’ll gladly shed a thousand happy tears for Dorothea.


End file.
